


Polaris

by movies_michelle



Category: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/movies_michelle/pseuds/movies_michelle
Summary: Jack is looking forward to spending time with his particular friend, but Stephen is a bit preoccupied at the moment.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeathByChocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByChocolate/gifts).



> Thanks to feochadn, dorinda, and keiko_kirin for the beta work!

Jack breathed deep and felt the satisfaction of a swift and pleasant day of sailing behind them, and all signs pointing to the same ahead.

It was a beautiful evening and Jack had just left the quarterdeck, giving Pullings command as he retired for the night. He'd been looking forward to this evening, as they were well underway home with expectations of a fair wind for the next day or so. All of which meant he could relax with Stephen, some music, and perhaps a more intimate form of companionship afterward.

The only unfortunate thing was that he had not seen Stephen for most of the day. The doctor had, in fact, been quite scarce since they had set sail from Curacao the day before. When he'd asked Bonden if he knew of Stephen's whereabouts, he was told that the doctor, who had taken on some specimens before they left port, was still absorbed with his research. 

"You know how he is, sir," Bonden said with an affectionate humor bordering on over-familiarity, though Jack supposed he had earned it. "He's got one creature spread out like he's a watchmaker over a clock, bits and pieces strewn everywhere."

Jack did indeed know how Stephen got with any new collection. His hunger for natural science was something which Jack did not share, but could understand, which was the only reason he hesitated before knocking on the door of the good doctor's cabin. He did not wish to pull Stephen away from his studies--especially not after the voyage they'd had up to now, with battles and blood aplenty for the doctor to deal with--but Jack found himself missing his friend, so raised his hand to knock on the door.

He was not surprised that there was no immediate answer, and even allowed himself a small smile as he raised his hand and knocked again. This time, there was a distracted "Enter" which floated through the door a few seconds too late normal propriety.

Jack entered to find Stephen just as Bonden had described him: bent over his work table intently examining the insides of some poor creature's bowels, going back and forth between scribbling notes on a scrap of blood-stained paper and staring intently from a distance Jack would find none-too-comfortable, as the smell was marked even from his distance to it. What the creature had been in life, Jack could not have said.

"Good evening, Doctor," Jack said. "I was just coming to see if you would like to join me for some toasted cheese and music this evening."

Stephen, still bent over his specimen, said in response only, "Hmm."

Jack waited to see if Stephen would surface any further into awareness outside of the intestines he was currently pulling apart, but he showed no sign, and Jack felt his smile falter slightly. It was fairly obvious his friend would not be pulled away from his examinations any time soon.

He sighed internally, but did not allow himself to vocalize it. 

"Well, then," he said, feeling awkward. "I suppose I shall leave you to it."

Stephen hummed again, then muttered a distracted, "Certainly, Jack."

By the time Jack left the cabin, Stephen had not once looked up to see him.

* 

Life continued much the same for the next few days. Jack gave dinners more nights than was usual, but he was not one to hog his larder from his officers and midshipmen. This was to many mutterings from Killick over the risk he was running of not having any victuals left for the last half of the trip home, but he found he preferred to run the risk rather than spend too many of his evenings in his cabin in isolation. 

It was not as if Stephen was derelict in his duties. Whenever one of the men went down to see him with one injury or another, which was daily as even on a ship experiencing smooth sailing things happen, he was quick to jump up and respond with the needed care. However when Jack found pretext to send a boy to Stephen's cabin or surgery, depending on the time of day, to inquire as to this or that bit of business--but mostly to see what state the good doctor was in--almost all of them returned with varying degrees of amusement or bemusement from what Jack assumed were rather terse responses. Jack always thanked them and moved on to another bit of ship's business.

Jack did not wish to seem churlish or nagging by showing up himself to Stephen's door again. Stephen would surface when his curiosity had waned and his own longing for his friend's companionship was noticed through his haze of scientific discovery.

Jack was not a person prone to melancholy. He was not, in general, one for inner reflection, either, but if asked he would have said he was of a serious but friendly disposition, fair with his underlings, and jovial with his equals whenever they met. He was not one of those captains who confused tyranny with discipline, and had never had a man lashed who had not earned it.

He would have said that nothing was amiss in his usual temperament, up until the point that he realized that the midshipmen he was giving navigation lessons to were unusually quiet. When he found himself snapping at Mr. Turnings, their newest addition, who was a quiet boy of no more than twelve, it gave him a turn, and he dismissed the group quietly.

It was not that Jack begrudged his friend his interests, far from it, but he couldn't help but note, at least to himself, that he felt quite lonely without him. Stephen had been with him for most of his career as a captain, and while it was quite unusual for someone in his position to be able to sail with his own particular friend, he supposed, Jack had found he had grown used to the chance to speak his mind with someone and share what thoughts and doubts he might have, someone who had no fear to speak his own thoughts in turn. Their mostly easy companionship was something which stood between Jack and the usual isolation that accompanied command on board ship. Even though it had been less than a week, it was one of easy sailing and little distraction, which meant he found he missed his friend more quickly than he normally would.

He also missed the music they both so enjoyed. He knew he could play on his own, but his hands felt heavy whenever he reached for his violin, the music they played sounding thin and baleful. It wasn't as if he and Stephen were normally any great virtuosos, but there was something about making music with someone who enjoyed it as much as he did, with Stephen, that added something more to his lifelong love of the music itself. And his violin sounded highly isolated without the cello to accompany it.

That Jack missed the additional intimacy he and Stephen normally shared after they played went without saying.

The sixth evening since Stephen had sequestered himself, during the dinner to which he'd invited his officers and Lord Blakeney--and to which Stephen was once again noticeably absent, despite Jack sending Bonden with the invitation--he perhaps drank more than he should. He did note, however, that Blakeney was being more circumspect with his wine than he had at previous dinners, sipping only slightly at each toast made. Jack noted this with approval--he would would not begrudge any young man his share of the bottle, but it was good to see him learn from past errors, but also not overcompensate by becoming some sort of Methodist teetotaler. 

He noted this all through his own haze of alcohol and calls for various men not to let the bottle stand by them.

The next day, he was unsurprised, if not entirely happy, to find that Stephen still had not appeared on deck. Jack decided, however, that he would give both his larder, and Killick's nerves over it, a reprieve. Rather than have yet another dinner that evening, he chose instead to take the late watch.

The quiet suited his mood much better, he told himself, than the hustle of the day. The quiet rocking of the ship and the bright stars overhead were as soothing as they had always been. The ease of the evening was just what he needed, he thought, and he was happy to be here with the barest number of crew at the ready, the snores of the men below reaching him faintly over the creak of the ship going to and fro. No matter that he would be up with the holystoning of the deck in the morning. 

He was just taking his third turn around the forecastle when he heard from behind him, "Jack."

Jack turned in surprise to see Stephen standing before him, breathing deeply before lighting a cheroot. If Jack had not known the man better and incapable of such things, he might have described his expression as sheepish.

"Stephen," Jack said in turn, and allowed some of the pleasure he felt at seeing his friend again seep through his voice. It would not do to sound too grateful at the apparition before him--Stephen had been absent from the quarterdeck and Jack's cabin for a week, not months--but he could not help the gladness he felt upon having his friend with him again. "Is your collection all properly cataloged, then?" he asked.

"Quite," Stephen said, taking a puff of his cigar before lowering it again. "I had hoped we might have some music tonight, but was informed by Killick when I approached your cabin that you had taken the late watch."

"Yes, well," Jack said, and looked away out to sea. He had no idea why he should feel bashful, so he said, "A weather eye is good to have in the night, at times."

Stephen gave him a slightly worried look and said, "Are you expecting some kind of trouble? A storm perhaps?"

Considering the breeze was gentle and there was no cloud in the sky to mar the extreme brightness of the stars, Jack thought that very unlikely and said so. Stephen relaxed and continued to smoke his cigar.

Jack felt himself relax by increments, and continued his watch's walk, Stephen pacing him as they took their turn. As they returned to where Stephen had initially joined him, Stephen finished his cigar and broke the companionable silence.

"So would that star there," Stephen said, pointing towards the brightest star in the sky, "the one placed just so to be visible above the mizzen, be the fabled North Star I have heard tale of?"

Jack smiled to himself. He would have corrected his friend--since the mizzen was currently placed at their backs, and the bow-sprit being what Polaris was currently resting near the top of--but Stephen had said mizzen with such incredible relish, as he was want to do whenever he was able to pull out a nautical term in conversation, Jack hadn't the heart to do so. "Yes, that would be it," he said instead.

"And it is always in the north, truly?" Stephen asked, obviously pleased to have gotten everything so far correct.

Jack looked fondly at his brilliant friend, so amazing with all things medical and natural science. Jack would also, readily, consult with Stephen, if he were inclined to care about such things, on any matter of political import. But his friend was equally inept and indifferent to all matters nautical and astronomical, no matter his years spent at sea.

Jack said only at this time, "Normally, yes, the north is where that star presides." 

"Hm," Stephen said with apparent interest at this amazing fact, but said no more.

Stephen stayed with him for the next few bells of his watch, sometimes chatting with him, sometimes simply sharing the quiet of the evening with him. A few minutes before Mowett was due to come on deck to take watch, Stephen asked, “Shall we have some music this evening, my friend?”

Jack was dearly tempted, to be sure, but noted with regret the late hour. “But perhaps a glass of port?” he suggested as a counter.

Stephen smiled and nodded in agreement, but said not a word as Mowett came on deck to relieve Jack.

*  
Not long after, Jack had poured them each a glass, and sat comfortably in his window seat, glancing out the port window as Stephen wandered his cabin examining items as if they might have changed in his brief absence.

Jack was not startled, but smiled as Stephen came to stop behind him and brushed his fingers against his face and through his hair.

"I apologize, Jack, for my recent absence," he said, voice full of contrition, which was enough to startle Jack as the touch did not, causing him to turn and look up at his friend.

"Not at all," Jack reassured him, taking his hand and kissing the faintly scarred fingers with the tenderness only familiarity can bring. In that moment, it was true, any resentment Jack felt melting away in the face of Stephen's return and affection. He had not really been so lonely without him. "Though I am glad you concluded your studies," he mumbled into the skin of his wrist, which smelled faintly of alcohol.

Stephen hummed as he sat next to him on the narrow bench, leaning forward to nuzzle at Jack's neck. "Lord Blakeney alerted me to my neglect," he said as he ran his hands up and down Jack's back as he loosened his collar.

Jack paused, equally put off by the mere mention of the midshipman's name in such an intimate context and the idea that he might have spoken out of turn. "Mr. Blakeney spoke to you about me?" he asked, pulling away. 

Stephen smiled. He reached up and removed the tie holding back Jack's hair. "Only to mention that he thought that you could use some company, now that I was no longer so absorbed in my specimens," he said, and leaned forward to lay a kiss on Jack's lips.

Jack allowed himself to be distracted momentarily, but still frowned once Stephen pulled back. "Stephen," he started chastisingly.

Stephen drew away only to kneel in front of his friend, which caused Jack's breath to quicken even before he reached for the fastenings of his breeches. "You may lecture me on naval discipline later, my love. Now," he said, pausing to rub his hands up and down Jack's thighs, "be with me here. I have missed you."

Jack felt his expression soften, as he leaned down to meet his friend's lips again. He also felt an odd kind of wonder, at how easy Stephen seemed to find it, expressing emotions Jack often felt, but couldn't find the words for. Perhaps it was the Irish in him, he thought with great fondness. 

Jack said none of this, though he did say, "Of course," against Stephen's lips before leaning back to allow him to do as he would.


End file.
